He's Not Him
by Lattelady
Summary: Hunt and Yang story. Over the time that she's known Owen Hunt, Cristina can't help noticing how different he is from Preston Burke.


**Rating: **R

**Pairing: **Hunt/Cristina

**Spoilers: **Anything up to and including 5.10

**Disclaimer: **These characters are property of Shonda Rhimes/ABC and Grey's Anatomy. They do not belong to me. Reimbursement is not received for fictitious works.

**He's Not Him**

By _**Lattelady**_

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* * *

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The first time he kissed her, Cristina looked into Owen Hunt's eyes and felt a flash of surprised. They were warm blue instead of deep brown.

Even after the one kiss, on that snowy night, she realized there were differences. For two days afterward, her cheeks and chin tingled from abrasions left by reddish stubble from his carelessly trimmed facial hair. A woman wasn't likely to forget that.

As she lay in bed while recovering from her injury, her hand wondered to her lips... "So different," she muttered to herself. "So very different from smooth, creamy, chocolate skin." Burke had never left marks on her and he'd…he'd…been everywhere.

Like a stone skipping over the water on a clear day, her mind jumped to the next thought. What would it be like to have Major Badass - pain in the ass - skin staple his ass with no Marcaine…incredible kisser – Hunt work his magic on other parts of her body? Would he mark her there as well? For the first time since she'd been left standing at the alter, desire for something other than surgery, swept through her: she wanted a man.

Shit!

Damn!

Burke's ghost haunted the halls of SGH when he won the Harper-Avery Award. Hahn was still there, riding her ass and shoving her out of cardiac. She needed to focus and concentrate on her career. It took a few weeks, but she was finally able to relax and breathe a sigh of relief. She'd exorcised phantoms by singing her heart out as she harvesting cadaver organs for the Wicked Witch of Cardiac…_damn she'd so been looking forward to being christened that._ McManly, as she'd secretly dubbed him, during one of her weaker moments, was on the other side of the world doing his trauma thing. Now she could get back to the important things in life: surgery and more surgery.

* * *

Then Hunt was back and Cristina realized the differences between the two men went far deeper than met the eye.

As early as his first day on staff, he made his presence known to her, but gone was the laughing adventurer who'd kissed her silly months earlier and in his place was someone else. It shook her to the core when Hunt confided in her. She wasn't used to a man who was willing to show his wounds, emotional or physical.

But the difference was more than that. He demanded and pushed her to be the best medical professional she could be, proper be damned. He did it for the patient, that much hadn't changed since he'd returned from Iraq, not because he was trying to change her into his image of what he thought was respectable. Working with him was a far cry from working with the polished, smooth-voiced Preston Burke.

* * *

In bed, like the rest of his life, Burke had been all careful finesse. Bringing her to climax patiently and calmly, a small smile of satisfaction on his face at a job well done – _his or hers, Cristina was never sure which_ - before he closed his eyes and took his own pleasure.

There was nothing calm or patient about Owen Hunt. His emotions were tightly wound and no matter how ridged his control, they could and did break free. When that happened, they swamped her, as he swept her along. Sometimes it was in a tidal wave of temper, but as the weeks past, it became passion.

That second kiss, outside of The Emerald City Bar, was rough and hard. She knew she should be frightened, but she stepped into it gladly and let his fire burn all around her. He tasted of scotch and frantic need; even as his words insisted that he didn't need her. Minutes later, walking slowly away, she felt like Dorothy after the tornado, definitely not in Burkeland anymore.

The following dawn she found Hunt sitting on her steps when she came in from a long night at work. He looked lost and unsure of what he was doing. He was oddly reluctant to move from where he sat. To go to her apartment was inappropriate in his eyes; yet he didn't want to leave. Cristina wondered how much longer they could pretend that they didn't want each other, as she joined him on her stoop. The idea of walking up those stairs and leaving him alone in the cold Seattle morning was unthinkable.

When he told her that she was beautiful, she had to fight to keep emotions from showing, but it was an old battle and easily won. She'd felt how much he wanted her the night before, and now this. It was almost too much. All she could do was stare into those intense blue eyes and wonder at the deep moral code that was so much a part of his being.

Dr. Propriety Burke had wanted her and proper or not, he'd taken her, a few weeks into her internship. She didn't blame him, because she'd been a very willing participant, but if he hadn't made the first move, it might never have happened. Sitting there in the middle of her second year, she realized the enormity of what he'd done. They didn't even have the weak-assed excuse that Meredith and Derek had of getting involved before they knew the work dynamics involved.

* * *

Owen took her to the vent, when she was about to break. As they stood in the odd lighting of the noisy room, she could tell by the wild abandon in his eyes that the cage was open. He'd let go of all restraint.

"Waaiit, wait for it," he insisted. She followed his lead and discovered incredible joy. Air rushed up around them, making her hair fly and buffeting her scrubs. It felt like they'd been dropped into a glass of champagne at warp speed. Cristina laughed with abandon at the sensation.

He took a step closer and she was surrounded by his scent, another step and she was surrounded by him. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with fierce shared delight. She melted into him and never wanted to let go. He tasted of magic and freedom and she couldn't get enough of him.

Her hands were under his shirt and heading south and his right hand was deep in her bra working some magic of its own, while his left arm was wrapped around her body, all that was holding her up. When her fingers began fumbling with the drawstring at his waist he pulled back and picked her up until they were off the grate.

"No," his voice was hoarse as he leaned against the wall with her body against his.

"Yes," she argued and reached for him again.

"Not here," he insisted and gripped her wrists. In one deft move her arms were behind her back in one of his large hands as he straightened her clothes with the other.

"I…" she gasped for breath and struggled to get free. "Well then just let me go." She'd had all the hurt she could take in one night. This was the final straw. No man led her on and then left her… Once in a lifetime was enough. Burke had taught her that lesson. At least this wasn't done publically. "I'm sick to death of you kissing me silly and then…and then… Damnit, why do you do it if you don't want me?" the words exploded out of her.

"Don't want you?" he ground his teeth in frustration. He squeezed her bottom and shoved until her abdomen was pressing against his. "Are you insane?" He thrust his hips forward and was rewarded when she moaned in response to his move.

"But…" Cristina moaned again and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Easy, Babe." He freed her hands from his grip and wrapped his arms around her as he kissed her forehead.

"I don't understand." Her body was draped along his and she held on to him tightly. "Is this some strange Army-guy thing?"

"No," he laughed. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. Besides you're the one who said 'no' after that first kiss. I was ready to find the nearest hotel room and finish what we'd started." He was running his hands through her hair searching for the right words.

"Then why not now?"

"Because," he sighed. "Because it's the vent. This place exists out of time and space. It isn't real."

"It's a vent, Owen, it's very real."

"Not the way we use it, it isn't." He took his time because he was afraid she'd think he was certifiable if he didn't explain it right. "We use it as an escape." He held her face gently and tipped it upward until he was sure she was looking him directly in the eyes. "When this happens between us," his words shook with promise and he had to take a deep breath to keep under control. "When this happens between us, it will be as real as it gets," he whispered. "Not some distraction, no matter how magical it seems."

"Oh," she sighed and snuggled against his large warm body to let desire bleed out of her. "Okay." She hoped he didn't realize how much she needed him. It wasn't something she was used to feeling.

They stayed hidden in the dark, held tightly together until their bodies cooled and their breathing returned to normal.

* * *

Later when all the drama of the first solo surgery was over, Cristina and Owen found an empty call room and locked the door. Both were too exhausted for anything but sleep, but were reluctant to part.

They'd only been asleep a short time, when Hunt woke in the middle of a nightmare. A scream was on his lips and his body shook as weapon's fire and the cries of dying men filled his ears.

Cristina held on to him tightly and tried to reassure him. "It's only a dream. You're here in Seattle, with me. Please, Owen, look at me. You're not back there anymore."

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry," he gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head. "I…"

"Hush, it's okay." She ran her fingers through his hair and rub his back trying to sooth him. "I know, I understand."

He saw tears fill her eyes and realized that she did know and understand. How many times over the years had she woken alone with no one to hold her as she was doing him? How many times had she relived the accident when her father died?

"Come here, Babe," Owen's voice was harsh as he gathered her into his arms.

"Are you all right?" She snuggled against him feeling safe to fall asleep with another person for the fist time in her life. "Will you be able to sleep now?"

"With you here, yeah." He kissed her temple and absorbed the warmth and comfort she offered.

Cristina lay awake until she was sure he was sleeping calmly. She found it hard to believe that he'd let her see him like that. Preston would have considered it ungentlemanly to disturb her sleep in such a way. Owen's casual acceptance that she understood made her resent all the hours she'd spent lying beside Burke, her eyes wide open, fighting sleep, refusing to take a chance on accidently exposing her secrets.

With a sigh she realized it was her own fault, because she'd never told him how her father died. As she fell asleep the last thought that floated through her mind was 'how could she have even considered marrying a man who didn't know that about her?'.

* * *

The first time they made love, his eyes were hot blue flames…not brown, never brown.... The animal was again unleashed, as he held her tightly in place, and explored every inch of her trembling body. She was gasping, stretched tight as a bow, but all he did was demand in a husky voice, "Waaiit, wait for it."

"I can't," she cried out.

"Yes you can." His kiss was deep and allowed no refusal. "Stay with me."

There was no careful finesse to Hunt's technique. Cristina decided he was simply trying to drive her out of her mind. She bit her lip and refused to beg, though a deep throaty moan slipped out.

When he heard it, his eyes glassed over. As his mouth covered hers and his tongue delved its depths, he finally gave in and filled her hard and fast.

Later as they lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs, she looked up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen and gave a silent thank you. She'd been right all those months ago. Her body did tingle in a number of very interesting places. Damn, she loved his casually trimmed mustache and beard.

No, Owen Hunt wasn't Preston Burke, but Cristina Yang was thrilled about that fact and figured she would be for the rest of her life.

The end


End file.
